Ratchet & Clank: Robot Fever
by Rickudemus
Summary: Did you know that robots could get a fever? Neither did Ratchet and he still doesn't believe it, but he'd die rather than not take care of his stressed out friend.


"The hell is a robot fever?" Ratchet lightly snapped at the robotic doctor who was inspecting me and the inside of my mouth with his eye-lamp activated. He turned it off as he looked over to Ratchet, who sat on a chair by the door. I felt a little nervous around these doctors, so he would always accompany me whenever I needed to visit, which wasn't often.

"It is a little complicated to explain." The doctor replied, giving me a handkerchief to wipe off the oil that kept leaking from my mouth. It was most displeasing. "You see, some robots have this circuit in their heads that they use for intellectual purposes. Sometimes this circuit can "burn out" and it seems to act in a way that a fever does for organic lifeforms, causing hazy eyesight, oil leaking and loss of balance." He explained, but Ratchet was not convinced. It really did sound strange, even to me, although I had heard of it before.

"That sounds like bullshit." Ratchet replied, making me let out a faint chuckle that probably neither fof them heard. His language was not in my best interest, but his tone was quite humorous.

"Take it as you will, lombax, but your friend won't be cured by your non-belief." The doctor said with a monotone voice, making Ratchet snarl. They never really got along...

"Then what will?" Ratchet asked, giving the doctor a glare. This, the doctor ignored, turning to me and answering the question to me.

"You will need to rest. It should cool out if you restrain yourself from working too hard. I did not detect any physical damage, but there is definitely over-heating from over use. And, I'm hoping-" The doctor turned to look at Ratchet with a small glare of his own "-your trigger-happy friend here will be able to give you the proper rest and care that you require."

"Don't underestimate my care-taking abilities, doc." Ratchet snarled again and the doctor turned back to me, giving me a smile.

"If anything comes up, you are free to contact me. Oh, and keep the handkerchief. It should help that oil leak for the trip back to your home." With that, Ratchet stood up and motioned me to get off the big, cozy chair for the patients. I jumped off, following him outside as I gave my gratitude for the robot health expert. You would be surprised how many patients there actually was despite his patients being all robots.

We headed for our ship, Aphelion, who kindly asked for my well-being and wished me to get better soon. I thanked her, assuring her that I was just fine. While I had a friendly chat with her, Ratchet sat there completely silent as he piloted us back to the the garage. I decided not to ask him about it, as I assumed it was because of the doctor. The two always had a bit of a quarrel going on and Ratchet always seemed to be upset about it after we left. Not that it lasted for long nor was it something that one should worry over much, but the air around him felt a lot more upsetting than those other times.

"Ratchet?" I asked him, but he just raised his hand for a moment before grabbing the control stick again, telling me not to speak any further. Leaning back on my seat, wiping the leaking oil from my mouth with a sigh. Even Aphelion did not dare to speak up anymore as the intensity around Ratchet seemed to grow. I was wrong. He was not upset, but angry.

It didn't take us long to make it back to our home and before I could barely get up from my seat once we landed, Ratchet grabbed me and carefully climbed down Aphelion. Confused by this action, I looked at him, opening my mouth to question him, but he interrupted me once again.

"Don't." He commanded and I obeyed. He carried me inside the building, taking me straight to the bedroom. He laid me down on his bed, looking overly frustrated, but I could not put my finger on the reason. He gave me a glare and pointed at me, silently telling me to not move as he left the room. I watched after him leave, laying on the bed completely still. I only moved my head around, looking around the room and trying to figure out the situation. It wasn't the first time I was laying on Ratchet's bed, but the current situation was a little... Awkward.

The oil leaked down again and fell down on the bed, making me panic a little. I sat up, trying to wipe it off with the already rather messy handkerchief, hearing then the oddly panicked gasp of Ratchet. "What are you doing?" I turned to look at him and he still looked frustrated.

"I um... Made a mess." I looked down at the sheet where the spot of oil was, but then Ratchet placed his hand on my chest and forced me back down on my previous position.

"Stay. Still." He gave a small snarl at me, making me blink a couple of times. Something was definitely off with him. I tried to question him once again, but he smacked all the stuff on the night table (placed right next to the bed) on the floor, placing a pile of towels on it. He took one and folded it, sliding his hand carefully behind my head and raising me up a little to place the towel under my head like a pillow. He took the messy handkerchief away from me and gave me a pack of tissues in replacement, then moving a trash can near the bed. He looked around, trying to find something and once he did, he walked over to the CD-player and placed it on the bed, next to me. Immediately after that, he walked to book-shelf that we used for holo-vid movie cases and CD's. For my surprise, he reached down to get the CD's that I liked to listen to when I needed to relax and he placed the whole pile next to the CD-player. "Which one do you want to listen to?" He asked, sounding much more gentle this time around.

I gazed at the pile, not really sure which one to pick. They were all lovely. "Let us begin from the top." I said and Ratchet nodded, taking out the CD from the case and placing it inside the player. "Why are you so upset, Ratchet?" I was finally able to ask, but he just shook his head.

"I'm not upset." He dropped down the volume on the player before he pressed play; obviously, he had used it the last time. He loved to listen to loud music.

"I know." I responded, closing my eyes for a moment as the music began to play. It was the type of music Ratchet really hated, but he would let me listen to it every now and then, as long as it wasn't in the ship. Something about losing concentration from the tiring lameness of the melody. "Was it something he said?"

"No, it's..." Ratchet groaned, glaring at the player as he sat down at the edge of the bed, rubbing his forehead. I could only imagine that his strong frown was beginning to hurt his own head. Believe me, it wasn't the first time. "It's just too much, you know." He stared at the floor, letting out a very deep, strong sigh. "We're working too much."

"Are we, really?" I asked, giving him a faint chuckle and receiving a serious glare in return.

"I'm serious, pal. Saving the world is fun and all, but it's too much. For us both." His expression saddened as he watched me. He grabbed a tissue and began to wipe off some oil from my mouth that still kept on coming out. "This. It really worried me, you know." He pulled back his hand, sighing again, but more lightly this time.

"I could see that." I replied, thinking back on our latest mission. It wasn't a big one, but it did involve me hacking computers. The codes were difficult and made my head swirl, so to say, and after that, I felt really funny. Soon enough, my vision became a little hazy and oil leaked out of my mouth. Even my balance was thrown off a bit and I almost fell down some stairs. Needless to say that Ratchet got really worried and began to panic over me, even though it was not visually that noticeable. But I could tell. "It was like when you got that cold."

"We are NOT talking about that." Ratchet growled, his cheeks heating up a little bit from embarrassment. He really did not like it when he was the one who had to be taken care of. Maybe not so much around me, but when Talwyn had offered to offer a hand, he got really out of hand. For his sake, though, I would not bring up how he needed help from Talwyn in the end after all.

"Is that why you are angry? Because I worried you?" I questioned, receiving yet another glare from the lombax. It seemed I was asking all the wrong questions today.

"Of course not, you idiot." He rubbed his forehead again, forcing himself to stop frowning so much. He tended to do that at times. "It was because... I cou-" He stopped and looked away, bearing an uncomfortable air around him. His mood always changed so rabidly. "I couldn't... Do anything about it." He said with a heavy tone in his voice. It wasn't that often that he used that tone, so it worried me as well. "I just feel like it was me who lead you to this." He turned back to me, this time looking more upset than angry.

"Do not be foolish, Ratchet. I think we are both disregarding our own health as much as we can. Neither of us are able to do much when the other one will not say a word about it." I explained which seemed to make the lombax share a small smile with me. "Worrying each other is something we both hate to do, yet ironically, here we are once more." Ratchet laughed along with me, dropping his gaze down to the floor once more.

"We know so much about each other, yet so little, huh?" He asked, his laugh decreasing down to a sad smile.

"Quite so." I responded, looking up at the ceiling. I grabbed a tissue and wiped off my mouth again. When Ratchet had a cold, he complained about having a dry throat, which I couldn't understand. If this oil kept leaking like this, I felt like I was going to find out what it was like. For some time, both of us stood in silence, deep in our own thought. After some time, Ratchet stood up and left the room, but not for long. He came back with a spray can of oil, placing it on the bed next to me while smiling.

"If you need anything, just give me a holler, okay?" Ratchet said as he was about to turn away.

"Where are you going?" I asked quickly.

"I'll be in the living room, watching some movies. I don't want to go into the garage, 'cause you know me." He shrugged with a chuckle. "Once I get into those things, you can't get my attention. So I though I should watch movies instead and don't worry, I'll keep the volume low." He watched me with a soft smiled, waiting for me to reply.

"Oh." I said, not taking my eyes off of his. "Would you..." I paused, making Ratchet tilt is head a little as he waited me to continue. "Would you be bored, if you stayed here with me?" My question made him look at the CD-player with a grin.

"With that music playing? Yes." He laughed, turning around to walk away, but to my surprise, he walked around the bed and lay down on the other side, next to me. He placed his hands under his head and crossed his legs, swinging the one on top up and down.

I smiled at him and he turned his head to do the same to me. "I see you are still wearing your shoes. That's not appropriate." I commented and he gave me a snicker.

"After getting oil on my sheets, I don't really give a damn." He laughed and if I had been able to, I would have joined him. I did not wish for more oil to spill around than was necessary. Again, we shared a moment of silence with each other while keeping eye contact. It was really nice how it wasn't awkward in the least. "I'll call Tal later and say that we're keeping a little vacation. No matter what trouble arrives, I want you better." He said, still smiling so kindly.

"Thank you, Ratchet. I appreciate that." I returned the smile, turning my head then to gaze at the ceiling and I could see that Ratchet did exactly the same. After that, we both lay there for a long time without saying a word while listening to the music he despised, even though he seemed to hum along with it.


End file.
